


Ticklish

by Calesvol



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, F/M, Light Angst, Missing Scene, Nostalgia, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 04:03:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17501183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calesvol/pseuds/Calesvol
Summary: Anonymous requested: (Charliebee prompt) Bee is holding Charlie and finds out she's ticklish.





	Ticklish

Warning(s): G, none

* * *

“If I never have to lift another box for the rest of time, it’ll be too soon.”

Having spent all morning into the late afternoon getting packed, a tang of wistfulness settled in Charlie’s throat. It was odd, standing in her now squeaky clean bedroom. Like someone had hit the reset button, it was perfectly emptied, almost. She’d gone completely overkill, probably, but her mom and Ron weren’t against her thoroughness. Reduced to three bins while the rest was going into storage, the prospect of her finally moving out and into her own apartment before she started community college in the fall hung over her, and heavily. 

Two bins were already in the Corvette’s trunk, while one was in the back. Even though Sally had been doubtful about Charlie moving in with Memo, the pair hit it off so well as friends in the past several months that she couldn’t think of anyone better to move in with. The apartment they’d chosen was modest, but segmented so it’d be co-ed, but not enough that privacy for either could be compromised.

This was it. She was seriously on her way to become an engineer, and her Uncle Hank had buckled in and finally given her a job. Agreeing to take her on as a full-time apprentice until the semester started, she’d finally be going what she loved instead of dipping hot dogs into vats of grease you could barely call a living. 

Huffing, Charlie strode into the garage and a sense of transition struck her. That evening was it; one congratulatory dinner, and she’d be gone. Charlie Watson versus the world. 

Well, technically not for good, but soon enough that she wouldn’t be a permanent fixture in their lives anymore, not like she’d been before. 

And she wasn’t sure how that made her feel, given what she’d said to her other best friend months ago. 

They needed her. Did they really? In a few hours, she’d be gone living her own life. Becoming the adult she’d set out to become, but without giant robots locked in grim combat over the fate of the world. 

And that made her feel emptier than it should’ve. 

Charlie glanced down at the ground where Bee had parked in those fateful days, using her imagination to fill the space with a brightly yellow, sunny Volkswagen Beetle worn from use that looked loved beyond belief. Of those familiar bright blue eyes that become like home in such a short frame of time. 

Oh. Her eyes became teary, sniffling softly. She was glad her brother and parents were out. Charlie didn’t want them seeing her like this and getting too concerned. 

But, she missed him. God, she did. 

Charlie still remembered that night when they’d been unable to sleep, staying up until the odd hours of the morning when thoughts of her father’s passing had been too much to bear. Bee knew she hadn’t really wanted to talk about it, and had been okay with that. Her mother and Ron had been fine with leaving her alone, giving her the space she needed to just decompress. 

But, Bee? He was so much different. 

Walking slowly towards the workbench where the picture and she and Bumblebee was, she remembered how they’d marathoned reruns of old shows until her eyes were seeing spots, of old MGM productions her father had loved and Charlie had complained were too old and cheesy. 

Then? Oh, he’d discovered her  _ ticklish spot. _

Charlie giggled softly to herself when Bee had discovered it, startled when she had for no discernible reason--but, it was always the same culprit: that spot behind her knees that sometimes brushed the smoothness of his armored gauntlets, making it impossible to keep a straight face.

And when he’d discovered the truth? No bigger menace had been born since him! 

Charlie had leapt off the perch he’d made of his arms, Bee innocently trilling when she’d accused him of trying to tickle her with the biggest, goofiest grin. He’d tried hooking an index finger around her leg, but she’d dashed away at the last minute and Bee had fallen on his stomach with a  _ clunk _ . Charlie had gasped aloud, holding her breath in case Sally or anyone else had heard and went to investigate.

They hadn’t, but it didn’t mean they hadn’t been close to it. 

Charlie had collapsed in a fit of laughter before Bumblebee had scooped her up, innocently clicking and whistling as if he were the least culpable person in the world for such giddy torment.

Then, she thought, she’d grown tired and Bee had let her fall asleep in his arms. Folding her arms on the workbench, resting her head on them, she craned her gaze to that picture of them and touched the corner of it gently.

Audibly, she sniffed.

God, she missed him.

So, so much. 


End file.
